


Tic-Tac-Toe

by KaoticLoki



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut, i like this pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 22:16:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13109607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaoticLoki/pseuds/KaoticLoki
Summary: They fit together even with their jagged edges.





	Tic-Tac-Toe

**Current song: "Face to Face" - Siouxsie and the Banshees**  
**Rating: M**

_"Face to face, my lovely foe_   
_Mouth to mouth, raining heaven's blows_   
_Hand on heart, tic-tac-toe_   
_Under the stars, naked as we flow"_

 

* * *

 

 

It was never her intention for things to go this far. What had started as an act of, dare she say, pity had developed into a dangerous tryst that had turned her life upside down. But Natasha loved the danger. She craved it...almost as much as she craved him. She could still taste him from their last meeting in that abandoned warehouse. She had shown him then that he was not that only one that could get what he wanted with a skillful tongue. They had been so exposed and it was thrilling. 

But this. _This_ was different. This was pushing every boundary, breaking every rule. He had come to her door, in full gear, clearly recognizable. This was her home. Her _safe place._ And he had invaded it without permission and without remorse, pulling her body to fit perfectly against his before she could even fully open the door. 

“Loki, what the hell are you-” She was silenced by his mouth on hers, aggressive, passionate, and full of need. Natasha allowed herself to be led back inside and gave the door a decent enough shove as they moved further into the living room. He smelled of blood and sweat and something so deliciously _Loki_. He was dizzying, intoxicating, and the assassin found herself drunk on his presence alone. He had obviously been in a battle quite recently. She had learned over the past few months that a Loki fresh out of a fight was simply insatiable. His mouth left hers to drag his tongue across her jawline, pausing to press his lips against her pulse. She was granting him better access without even thinking, her head tipping back as they came to a standstill against the hallway wall, just outside her bedroom. “Loki,” Natasha breathed, watching him lower to kneel in front of her, “are you hurt?” She always asked and he always gave the same answer, no matter his appearance. 

“No.” 

And then the game begins.

His tongue traced around her navel while slender fingers grasped the waistband of her pajama shorts. He slipped them down her legs and let them pool at her feet, pleased to find no other garment standing in his way. His lips brushed the front of her right hip, sending a shudder through her being. She knew where he was headed and the anticipation only served to heighten her arousal. He took hold of her right knee and brought her leg up over his shoulder, that talented tongue of his setting to work on the bundle of nerves at her core. He kept one hand on the outside of her thigh while the other snaked up her stomach, under her shirt, to take hold of her left breast. He rolled her nipple between his fingers in time with the motions of his mouth, smiling against her sensitive flesh when she began to moan his name over and over like a mantra. The hand under her shirt began to slide down her abdomen, joining his mouth in the mission to unravel her. Two clever fingers slid home and immediately began to work that spot that drove her wild. It was like the cunning deity had memorized a map of her most stimulating areas. Natasha had to resist the urge to grind her hips against his face, settling for fisting her hands into his long, dark tresses. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” she breathed, feeling a warmth coiling low in her belly. With a drawn out moan, she chose to look down, finding his bright green gaze intently on her. That only served to fuel the fire. “I...I’m gonna…” Without warning, the trickster’s fingers left her warmth and she whined at the loss, but yelped as he grabbed her other leg and placed it over his left shoulder and stood. Natasha’s back slid up the wall, until she could reach up with a bent arm and press her palm against the ceiling. She bucked against his mouth when she began to feel the familiar pressure building, burning out of control. His fingers bit into her thighs as he increased his efforts, sensing her need to come undone. Within seconds, she writhed and twisted, yelling his name as her world exploded and then collapsed in a shuddering euphoria that was gone all too soon, leaving her cold and wanting.

When her movements had slowed to nothing but a tremble, Loki pushed one leg from his shoulder. Then the other. He caught her by the waist as she began to slide down, her shirt catching on his armor and pulling up to reveal the bare flesh underneath. The trickster ignored it for now, placing a finger under her chin to bring her eyes up to meet his. Her pupils were blown wide, the glassy green gaze full of lust. Those same eyes fluttered closed when he captured her lips again, feeling her shiver at the taste of her own juices still on his tongue. 

She had learned the workings of his armor through their “meetings,” so she began to unsnap, unzip, and untie until everything from the waist up was in a pile at their feet. “Take them off.” She motioned to his boots, pulling her shirt over of her head. She shook out her shoulder length red hair and waited for him to stand and toss the boots aside before pressing her chest against his, loving the feeling of his bare skin. His expression was unreadable as he bent forward to press his lips to hers. It was almost gentle. Close to romantic. Fuck that. She gave him a shove and his back collided with the wall, inciting a grunt from the god of mischief. He straightened and opened his mouth, but she quickly countered, capturing his lips while raising a knee to grind against his groin. If it hurt, he didn’t say so. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth when she pulled away, just slightly enough to fit a hand between them. His stomach muscles twitched as her fingers brushed over the skin and dipped past the waistline of his pants. He hissed when she took him in hand, gliding her soft palm over his length once, twice. His hands grazed up her sides and moved inward toward her chest but she used her free hand to slap his away. “Behind your head.” She ordered, darted forward to take his left nipple between her teeth. She continued to stroke him while soothing the pain from her bite with her tongue, trailing soft kisses up his collarbone before coming to a stop by his ear. His hesitation was noticeable but he eventually obeyed and interlocked his fingers behind his head. Natasha stifled a chuckle when he grunted and closed his eyes in obvious restraint. “You know you like it when I tease you, almighty god of mischief.” She emphasized by tightening her grip, delighting in the arch of his back and the breathy moan in her ear. 

“You assume much, little spider.” The young god groaned when her tongue slid across his earlobe. There was a noise of protest when she released him and stepped back, tilting her head to admire the sight in front of her. The god of mischief, lies, and chaos standing against her wall, bare-chested with his hands behind his head. Sweat was glistening on his skin and she could see his desire for her evident against his pants. His bright green eyes glowed with magic and need, watching her every movement.

“You're magnificent.” She purred, stretching an arm forward so her fingertips could appreciate the twitching muscles of his abdomen. “Tell me what you want.” She pressed herself against him again, pushing her thumbs into the waist of his pants at each hip. Natasha licked her lips and watched his trademark maniacal grin capture his features. He leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers without claiming them. 

“Kneel.” 

The agent did as she was bid, dragging the last of his clothing down with her. He stepped out of the garments and kicked them to the side, looking down at her with renewed enthusiasm. She locked gazes with the god as she took him into her mouth, reveling in the unbidden shiver that wracked his frame. It was an instant reaction to bring his hand to her hair, twisting slender fingers into red locks. He didn't realize his mistake until her teeth grazed sensitive skin. She pulled back and scolded him with a disappointed glare, shaking her head. “I didn't tell you that you could move your hands, playboy.”

Loki knew the rules. Suffice to say, he loved breaking the rules. But not with her. Breaking _her_ rules meant the end of their game. And he rather enjoyed this game. So, he responded by placing his hands in their previous position, scowling at the woman on her knees before him. _'Little minx.’_

With a smug grin, she moved painfully slow into continuing her ministrations, enjoying looking up at his frustrated expression. It was her guilty pleasure to dominate the arrogant trickster, watching him come apart at something as simple as her touch. It was absolutely maddening to hold that much power over a nearly immortal being. With a hum, she wrapped her fingers around the base and squeezed, moving in time with her mouth. There was a loud _‘thud’_ above her. Natasha looked up to find that he had slammed the back of his head into the wall, probably a reaction to nearly reaching for her again. When he growled between clenched teeth, she felt a surge of heat at the joining of her thighs. Sliding her mouth off, she flicked the tip with her tongue before standing. 

“Loki,” She pressed her lips to the front of his throat, smiling against his adam’s apple when he tilted back his head, fingers remaining interlocked. “Do you want to touch me now?” He remained still and simply looked down his nose at her.

“You know I do.” He all but whispered, voice shaking.

Natasha hummed appreciatively and reached around his head to grab his left wrist, pulling his hand toward her chest. “What else?” She nipped at his bottom lip as she placed his palm on her right breast. He immediately caught her nipple between his fingers, kneading the sensitive bud between his knuckles. He brought his other hand down to rest on her hip, sensing he no longer needed to wait for her permission. Natasha pushed herself closer, feeling his arousal between them. She was kissing along his jaw to his left ear when she grew impatient and bit down on the love, so hard that she expected to taste blood.  “ _What else?_ ” 

Loki growled and released his hold on her breast. The trickster grabbed her shoulder and spun her, somewhat roughly, to press her back against his chest. His right armed snaked under hers, crossing her chest to hold her in place, while his left came around her shoulder so he held her throat. He wasn't hurting her… not past the point she enjoyed. “Anything I want.” He hissed, fingers digging into her breast. “And you'll let me, won't you?” Natasha moaned when his hand left her throat and cupped the apex of her thighs. “Because you like it.” He was speaking in a forced whisper, low and dangerous. She thought she would climax with his voice alone. That was before he slid one finger past her soaking folds, his palm stimulating her as he pumped in and out. “Because you want it.” He dipped his head over her shoulder and placed his lips on her pulse, licking and sucking with intent to bruise. The hand on her chest squeezed her breast with painful force. She was panting now, pushing her head back against the front if his shoulder. She was certain he had left a mark on her neck that'd she'd have to explain later, but it was quickly forgotten at the feel of his teeth on her earlobe. Then his breath in her ear. “Because you _need_ it.” She moaned loudly, grabbing at his wrist to slow his pace before the could crest once again. “No.” He scolded, adding another finger and delighting in her quickened gasps. “I want you to _scream_ for me.” 

“Loki…” She panted, feeling her second climax nearing, “Loki, I...I have neighbors.” She was riding his fingers at this point, his steady breath in her ear driving her. 

“Then they will know my name before this night's end.” He sneered, pressed the side of his thumb into her most sensitive area. “Now, _scream_!” 

And scream she did, grinding against his hand until she was too sensitive to even be touched. Before she could even catch her breath, he tilted her to the side and bent to sweep an arm under her knees, carrying her to her bed. Loki threw her down roughly onto her back and used his knee to part her legs. The trickster crawled up her body like a predator, dragging his tongue up her sternum. Natasha gripped his biceps, feeling the firm muscles flexing there as he held himself above her. She didn’t want to wait any longer (and was certain of the same for him). The assassin reached between them to position him at her entrance, biting her lip in anticipation. Loki didn’t wait. He slammed into her and set a vigorous pace that brought their bodies crashing together. Any hope Natasha had of remaining quiet was soon vanquished when he brought an arm down to hook the back of her knee in the crook of his elbow, bending her leg up toward her shoulder. The move sent a wave of pleasure rippling through her. 

“ _Fuck_ , right _there_ !” She wouldn’t last much longer like this. He responded by sitting back on his knees and pulling her up to meet him, capturing her lips. Seated on his lap with her legs wrapped around his waist, she experimentally rolled her hips, nearly orgasming when Loki moaned into her mouth. Starting slow, she eventually set a rhythm that had his mouth hanging open, breathing in short gasps, and his eyes screwed shut. He held her hips with bruising force as she dragged her nails across his back, leaving thin red lines in their wake. She chewed on her lip, watching her lover eagerly. She had spent many nights in his company, bandaging his wounds, talking him down, and attending to his primal needs. And then he would leave. He would always leave. Natasha wanted more tonight. She _needed_ more. Stilling her motions, she watched his eyes open, pupils blown wide. “Lie back.” She lifted herself off him and waited for him to move. Watching her and breathing heavily, he finally obliged, shifting himself to lie back on the pillow. 

“Natasha, what-”

“Sssh,” She brushed her fingers over his lips. “It’s my turn to take care of you.” She threw one leg across him to straddle his waist and leaned forward to dip her tongue into the hollow at the base of his pale throat. He keened, arching against her, but she rendered him still with a hand on his chest. “I’m going to ride you until you can’t think straight.” 

The way he looked at her in that moment sent a hot wave right between her thighs, awed and greedy; hungry for her. She guided her hips over him and eased down, starting a rhythm that was anything but slow. His hands alternated between gripping her hips and her thighs, his head thrown back and teeth clenched. Looking down at him, Natasha could see his muscles twitching, chest heaving, and could feel his hands trembling. She was starting to shake and began to chase after her own pleasure as well. 

Loki began to thrust up to meet her movements, grinding into her and throwing Natasha forward to grab the headboard. He was gasping as if he’d ran a marathon, thrusts stuttering. “ _Fuck, Natasha!_ ”

And that was enough to send her over the edge, painting where they joined with her desire. Loki let out a strangled cry and followed her, coming apart with her name on his lips. She rode him through the pulses and aftershocks before collapsing onto his chest. They laid quiet and still for several minutes as they regained control and slowly came down. 

Loki interrupted the silence, clearing his throat. “I should go.” He gave her a gentle push, and she lifted off him to roll to the side, gathering the blankets up over her as if suddenly self-conscious. 

She laid on her side, propped on her elbow, and watched him while he sat on the edge of the bed. Her claw marks stood out on his pale back. She was glad he couldn’t see her smug grin. The trickster jerked his head to the side to pop his neck and began to stand. Her hand shot out to grab his wrist before she had bid it, leaving her just as shocked as him.

“Stay.” Her voice was so quiet that she wondered if he had even heard her. 

The trickster cocked an eyebrow. “Stay? Stay here?” She nodded, able to breathe again once all causticness melted from his features. “Very well.” He turned to put his legs back onto the bed, pulling the portion of the blankets she offered  up to just above his hips. He laid on his back, one arm behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling until his eyes slipped closed. Natasha laid on her side, watching him silently. She moved her arm, only slightly, so that it touched the one not tucked under his head. He opened his eyes for a moment, but said nothing. He did not bristle at the post coital contact as he used to… which told her he was feeling the changes between them as well. Her mind was able to shut down and sleep soon claimed her.

When the sun came, he was gone. She had expected no less. 

Nearly three weeks passed before she saw him again, bloody and beaten. And even then…

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

* * *

 

 

 

_"You never can win_  
_It's the state I'm in_  
_This danger thrills and my conflict kills_  
_They say follow your heart_  
_Follow it through_  
_But how can you when you're split in two?"_

 


End file.
